MiddleEarthRoze

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

You have my interest! I'll aim to get an application done before the deadline, if you'll have me. :D

Escaping the Blight: A Collaboration of POOHEAD189 & MiddleEarthRoze

The thought of sparring with Rannon, in play or not, brought a flush to Feri's cheeks and a strange warmth to the rest of her body. She almost didn't hear the rest of his conversation about his brothers as her imagination ran wild. She had noticed the way his body had moved on the battle-field, and even in the most deadly, sickening of situations that the Darkspawn brought forth, she had noticed his form. He was so tall and powerful, his movements brutal and merciless, and yet, there remained a dancer's touch about him. The way he wielded his sword, the almost effortless way he pushed his opponents to the ground, and the ever-stoic intensity in his steel eyes. Feri could rightly imagine herself in the place of his foe during a sparring session; grappling with Rannon as they both strove to win, emotions running high despite the harmless nature of their contest. The thought of that situation - the context and the proximity that Feri would have with him - was a certainly provocative (And distracting) one.

Without her knowing, Feri had settled into a relaxed position - arms propped up on the table and hands cupping her chin and keeping her head aloft, an almost dreamy smile resting on her face. Upon realising Rannon had stopped talking, Feri snapped out of her daydream, though she noticed that she'd been doing that a lot lately around him.

"Two brothers? Lucky guy. Though I guess being the oldest of three has it's downsides too. There was a family in Lothering where the eldest was always chasing after their younger sister and brother. Pretty sure the girl was a mage though, so life was always a bit more hectic for them." Feri replied with a light laugh, and then continued talking. Whether Rannon was done speaking because of the subject or... another reason, she didn't mind. The only complaints her mother had had about Feri when the pair had made it to dry land was that she talked and day-dreamed too much. It turned out you could get away with both of those traits aboard a pirate ship when your Father was Captain, but not so much in a quaint village mostly filled with suspicious Ferelden farmers. In short, Feri could talk endlessly, and it was quite refreshing to hear someone was willing to listen rather than being told to shut it.

"Over the years at sea, it wasn't very often that I met someone who was around my age. As a child it didn't bother me so much, because I had my mother, the very unwilling cats, and usually most of the sailors who would play with me when they had the time. A lot of them had children back at wherever their spouses lived on dry land, so I think they enjoyed spending time with a kid when they couldn't see their own. But... when I turned into a teenager, things became far less comfortable." Her pose shifted so that her arms were resting lightly on the tabletop, left hand playing with a woven leather bracelet on her right wrist as a fond smile appeared on her face. Although having moved, Feri remained leaning into the table, so that her face remained only a few inches from Rannon's.

"Most of the crew were strapping, young men at this point. Still several years older than me, but by the time I'd reached 16, I was the same age as the wenches they chased after in every dock we stopped at. Probably fearing the wrath of the Captain, they'd avoid me like the plague. I must admit, I wasn't making things easy what with being at that time in my life - I'd find myself giving lingering looks at the more attractive of the men as they worked on the deck, and I was losing my childish looks more and more as the days went by. At the time, I was irritated at how much they skirted around me. In hindsight, they were being extremely sensible." Feri laughed quietly, shaking her head at her own childish silliness. Although she had looked more womanly at that age, she still had the naive mind of a child.

"But the first man I met that really paid attention to me took my breath away. Keep in mind that it doesn't take much to take an idiotic teenage girl's breath away, especially under the circumstances. It was a reunion, of sorts. Some of the more respectable pirate Captains are friendly with one another, and it's commonplace for them to meet up every couple of years or so. The crews all mingle, the Captains swap war stories, drink to fallen comrades, that kind of thing. There's usually music and dancing, plenty of food, and of course, alcohol. The man in question was one of these Captains. Unusually young, as he'd taken up his father's mantle after his untimely death a few months prior to the reunion. The crew seemed to love him though, so he was the perfect candidate. Made it all the more flattering when he paid special attention to me during that time. Maker, it didn't take much to impress me back then." Feri's laugh was a bit louder this time; this story was one she had told a fair few friends as it usually garnered a couple of laughs, but it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps Rannon didn't want to be hearing about this story. Or would he? She wasn't sure. It felt different, somehow. Not because they hadn't been friends for long, but because she felt that Rannon could be made uncomfortable about hearing her past crushes, rather than just laughing along with her like comrades in the past had. Feri wondered if she had better change the subject, but part of her reasoned that the end of her story would be a comfort to Rannon... if he was feeling what she thought he was feeling, anyway.

"This guy was older than me, though still at an approachable age. An attractive, powerful Captain all interested in the pretty young daughter of Captain Ianto Kobald? Of course, I was overwhelmed. But the thing is, he was an utter bastard. It wasn't obvious at first, especially not to the naive little thing I was back then, but underneath all that charisma and charm, he had some pretty skewed morals. Ones that I didn't exactly approve of." Feri's head dipped forwards slightly towards Rannon, the nearby fires casting shadows across her face and making her green eyes glint all the more brightly in the reflection of the flames. The lighting was making fine work of Rannon's profile too; highlighting his strong features, deepening his scars, and illuminating his grey eyes so that they looked like steel in a forge. It was certainly a face one could easily get lost in, even when one was busy thinking about past flings.

"I suppose the morale of my story is to not give in to emotions so easily. I was lucky I had some wits about me, enough so that I could realise I couldn't have a happy future with this man. After that close call, I dealt with my lack of age-similar comrades much more readily." As she said this, her gaze left his and met with the table, her forefinger idly tracing the scratches on the scarred, wooden surface. "To this day, he's been the second most captivating man I've ever met." Feri's eyes flicked back to Rannon, a knowing smile on her face. "Though nowhere near the kindest."

@POOHEAD189

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Roze will shoot to kill Armiger 3. Gotta steal that kill from the Cat-Kicker, because why not piss him off more? XD

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

@Dutchess Sarah

As the good man above said! You'll be notified once this RP starts up again for sure. :)

Buccaneers and Blades (Fantasy, High Casual)

As soon as he had stepped through the threshold of the bustling, noisy inn, Loren had clocked the group he needed to speak with. They stood out amongst the rest of the rabble; not like a sore thumb, because they were certainly prettier to look at than the rest of the revellers in the building. Prettier, in the sense of being impressive; organised, intimidating to a degree, and certainly the look one would expect from a fellow recruiting for a pirate ship. Unlike many myths liked to say, pirates weren't always loud and uncouth louts. They were businessmen - a diverse group from all walks of life that, in best case scenarios, would become your family. Judgement was left at the shore when on board a ship, as long as you could do your job. And that was exactly what he was here to do; Lorenzo Fiorenti suited the title of Captain, and he was eager to shoulder that burden once again. Still, first things first: an introduction was in order.

Although not the tallest, biggest, prettiest (or ugliest) man in the room, it was clear that Loren had a certain presence about him. The crowd dispersed before his path without so much as a nudge from the ex-Captain; they scurried out of the man's way after only a glance at his expression of determination, not wanting to risk delaying him in any manner. Rain still clung to his duster and hat, droplets shaking loose as he patted down his broad shoulders with scarred hands.

Loren tipped his hat cordially at the others clustered around the table; his potential crewmates, no doubt. And they certainly were an interesting bunch, but that kind of diversity was something Loren always appreciated. One of the reasons he figured pirates trumped Navy ships so often was due to the stubborn recruiting methods of the navy - the officers were all of the same breed, with the same training, same amount of money, and same air of superiority. That kind of shit got you nowhere with pirates, and their individuality nearly always gave them an advantage in a fight.

"Evening." He began, looking back to the recruiting table and locking eyes with the young rogue sat in the center. Loren's voice was a pleasant one to hear, with a deep, gravelly quality that was oddly comforting, depending on his tone. As of now, it was amicable, but politely so. Pretending to be friends straight away with one's employer was an annoying quality he had always tried to avoid, as it rarely did you any good. "I'm Lorenzo Fiorenti, though I previously had the title of Captain. I won't lie that I'd like the privilege of that title on your ship, but whatever the role, I'm willing to take it - I've spent most of my years on a ship and sailing. My tongue is as sharp as my sword, and I'm more than capable of using both efficiently." Finishing with a grin, Loren removed his tricorne hat and shook the water from it gently, smoothing his dark-blonde hair back with his other hand as he regarded the group as a whole. "Feel free to call me Loren." He added, blue eyes twinkling in the light of the nearby fires.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

Roze winced at every crash and thud the falling bridge - and two Dunmeri - made as they hit the bottom of the chasm. The sound seemed to reverberate into the night air, and the rogue knew immediately their chances of continuing this part of their journey stealthily would be impossible. Especially when a near-dozen Armigers showed up, looking equal parts confused and suspicious at the destroyed bridge. Had Roze been in charge, she would have recommended a sneak attack on the group. There were a fair few decent archers amongst them, alongside those who knew plenty of ranged spells. That way they could dispatch their enemies and retrieve their fallen comrades without making too much of a racket, and potentially gaining more unwanted attention from their foes on the island.

Naturally, Dumhuvud had a different plan.

The Cat-Kicker rushed forward before anyone else could get a word in edgeways. Roze groaned inwardly at his brashness, but at least she could appreciate that there wasn't time to dither about what to do. Not with two of their own possibly already incapacitated and needing help. Still, Roze couldn't help but be reminded at what an idiotic idea it was to place Dumhuvud in charge of a stealth mission. Following the others from their hiding place, the Breton nocked an arrow and scanned the field, waiting for a target to present itself. By now, Roze had learnt to keep her distance from the middle of a fight. Too many close calls at Windhelm and Bthamz had just reinforced the fact that she was no warrior, and sneaking would do no good when out in the open like this. She'd be far better picking off her enemies further away - Roze only hoped that her aim was a bit more true than last time. A pang of guilt hit her as she reminisced; an arrow of her own had scratched Sagax in the Dwemer ruin. He'd been gracious about the potentially fatal mistake, but it was not so easily forgotten for Roze. Especially after the last time they had spoken. Roze powered forward, pulling a face as she tried to squash her feelings down. Now wasn't the time. Not when there were friends in front of her being injured.

Sevine was clearly struggling with her foe, and Niernen had just fallen with a screech of pain to a Dunmer with a spear. Before Roze could even pick which companion to aid first, a new target caught her attention. Roze seemed to have caught the Armiger's attention too, for he was already sprinting at her, bellowing and grasping a particularly heavy looking hammer. She supposed it made sense, in the Dunmer's eyes, to take down the ranged attackers first. Still, she wasn't particularly happy about it. Nor was she going to let him be successful.

Deciding to forgo Dumhuvud's order of "try and keep them alive", Roze had pulled back her bow; her face calm and hands steady, but heart hammering away with adrenaline and fear as the Dunmer swiftly approached. As she loosed her arrow, the effect on the attacker was darkly comedic, in a way. As his left eye socket became home to her arrow, his steady sprint descended into a slow stagger, and he gave a few sloppy, confused swings of his hammer before toppling to the floor only a yard from her feet, a most peculiar expression of bewilderment on his face as he died. Roze stepped over his body, convulsing due to the foreign object now embedded in his brain, and nocked another arrow and found her second target. None of her friends would be dying today; not if she could help it.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Peik

Not to worry, I'll be posting for Roze today, unless that's too short-notice?

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

@josephb@BurningCold@FernStone@POOHEAD189

Real sorry folks, but I think I'll be shelving this RP for now. My hiatus' away from here have been too long, and it's not fair to keep y'all waiting longer. When I have more time on my hands to run this roleplay, I'll pick it back up, maybe in a few months. Hopefully a fresh start will get more people interested, and there certainly won't be as many delays as this one has had. Naturally, if you've been accepted here, you won't have to apply in the reboot when it comes up, and I'd love to have you all back.

@josephb If you've finished your CS and still want to submit it, I can review it for you if you'd like, rather than waiting to see if you'd be accepted when I get a reboot done at another time.

Buccaneers and Blades (Fantasy, High Casual)

"Captain" Lorenzo Fiorenti

Character Name: 'Captain' Lorenzo “Loren” Fiorenti

Race/Species: Human - Praelior

Gender: Male

Age: 43

Role: TBD

Skills/Traits:

• Wordsmith: A good Captain has to be able to persuade others without relying on brute strength or blackmail. Loren has always had a cunning – and often alluring - tongue, but years of practice has turned him into an expert at honeyed-words. He can usually get his own way in negotiations before he’s even made a promise to his opponent.
• Basic First-Aid: Although hardly a Doctor, Loren has picked up a good few skills over the years from various shipmates and healers. He’ll do well for you in a pinch if you’re injured, and can usually keep people alive until better aid arrives.
• Sailing & Sealegs: You don’t become Captain of a ship without working hard for it, and Loren worked his way up from the bottom. Starting off as a powder-monkey, Loren soon developed his skills in how to help run a ship. Navigation, rigging, tying ropes and pulling sails – the only skill he never learnt was that of cookery. One instance of nearly setting the ship on fire ensured he was to stay out of the kitchen at all times.
• Swords: He wouldn’t be a very good pirate if he couldn’t fight now, would he? Picking up the skill as a young whelp, the basics were taught to him on dry land. It was only when he was press-ganged that the skill was finessed, and he began to learn the art of sword-fighting, rather than just waving his weapon around in hopes it would stab something. Joining a pirate crew in his late teens gave him a new form of fighting, and so his skill in using the sword grew.
• Swimming: A skill he learnt as a child, before even stepping foot on a ship. The mercenary group he ran with had decided that the lads needed to learn how to swim to do a certain job, and so he and his friends were tossed into rivers daily just to try and learn. A tad brutal, but it worked. Over the years he’s practiced more, and with his knowledge of how the sea currents work now, Loren has become a skilled swimmer out in the ocean.
• Hand to Hand: While no specific expert in brawling, Loren knows enough to keep him on his feet for a bar fight or boxing match. He much prefers his sword, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared in this world.

Weapons:

• Sabre: Long, thin, but made of a durable steel.
• Daggers: Has several of varying sizes pocketed around his person.
• Gladius: One of his older and more battered of possessions, it’s served him well over the years and always remains at his hip.

Physical Description:
Standing at 6’2” with a broad pair of shoulders and chest, Lorenzo’s height and colouring is telling of his Praelian roots; and, his colourful life both on land and sea. While his is figure is more athletic and lithe than that of a body-builder, he still has enough muscle showing to prove he likes to look after his body. In the sense of exercise and maintenance, that is - when it comes to matters of scarring, he hasn’t quite been as careful.

His olive-toned skin typical of his homeland has been tanned, weathered and freckled from years of toiling under the often harsh conditions out at sea. The palms of his hands are calloused and rough from continuous manual labour and handling weapons, and his enemies in the past have left more than a few marks on his body and faces. Old wounds and scars range from minor scratches from lucky jabs by swords, to fresher bullets wounds peppering his torso after he tangled with the wrong group of Dwarves and a yellow-bellied Quartermaster. Some are deeper and more unsightly than others, but he isn’t perturbed by them, nor has anyone who’s shared his bed in the past. Either way, those individuals who made most of those marks were left much worse off than Lorenzo. He made sure of that.

As for his facial features, it’s fair to say he has a handsome, if weathered, face. A strong jawline that’s kept clean shaved as often as possible is paired with a narrow nose, long sideburns, thick eyebrows, and blue eyes framed with surprisingly dark eyelashes. Surprising when compared to his hair, which originally was a light brown. Years of working under the sun has all but bleached his roots, leaving it a coppery blonde, with streaks of darker blonds and gray running throughout. It’s fairly straight, but cut rather choppily; left shorter at the sides and longer on top, Lorenzo usually has it swept backwards over his head – depending on how long it takes for him to take shears to it, he keeps a leather tie handy to ensure it doesn’t become meddlesome.

Loren’s style is typical of that of a Captain; leather duster, weathered tricorne hat, leather boots and lightweight – but durable – shirt and pants.

Armor:
None; he doesn’t like to be weighed down.

Equipment/Other

• Various lucky charms from around the world
• Hip Flask
• Tinderbox
• Waterskin
• Whetstone
• Compass
• Telescope

Mental Description/Personality:
Loren can sometimes seem a bit paradoxical. In some ways, he’s a laidback sort of fellow. Easy-going, warm-hearted, joking; however, in certain areas he can be quite serious, especially in terms of doing his job well. The latter comes from a strong work-ethic instilled in him from a young age – if you don’t work, you don’t get anywhere except a coffin, and that’s if you’re lucky. However, he also learnt rather quickly that you need to be liked in a lot of places to climb up the ranks. He had always been naturally charismatic and friendly, so he always uses this to his advantage – be it to make friends, de-escalate dangerous situations, or to just get some free drinks at a pub somewhere. This trait has proven invaluable to him as a Captain, and he has struck some strong bonds in the past thanks to it. For newer folk, Loren is generally polite to them until he gets a better look at what the individual is like. If he deems them good, he’ll treat them warmly. If not, he’ll be cold to them. However, it would take for the person to do something particularly bad for Loren to start actively disliking them.

Over the past few years, Loren has developed a darker, more cynical streak. The betrayal of his crew-mates that led to the deaths of his loyal friends have made Loren more distrusting of others. It has also drained him of mercy in most cases, preferring to end lives needlessly to ensure his enemies won’t come back for revenge in the future. He’s driven by his own need for vengeance, and while he will refuse to let that get in the way of his future crewmates, it won’t be forgotten any time soon. In regards to the new crew aboard the Sea Reaver, Loren would appreciate any help they’d willingly give to his own goals. But he would sooner die by himself than endanger any of them for his own failings.

Goals/Apirations:
To find his wretched former crew and make them regret their betrayal; not just for their mutiny, but for the deaths of his loyal comrades who fell to protect their Captain. Also, to perhaps move on from his old shipmates deaths with a new crew – a hopefully more trustworthy one, this time.

Background/History:
Lorenzo had a humble and common beginning to his life – born to a prostitute in a typical Praelian whorehouse, Loren was the fifth bastard child of a woman who couldn’t afford to look after him properly. His care was handed over to his eldest brother, Marco, as soon as he had been weaned and could toddle about by himself. Marco had looked after several of the children born at the whorehouse, even though he was only at the young age of thirteen. Early on in Loren’s life he was tasked with committing petty crimes, simply to make the job of being raised easier for his brother. Stealing a loaf of bread here, pinching a coinpurse there; anything that would make life a bit better for him and the other urchin bastards scattered around the underbelly of Praelior. When he turned 8, however, he was able to join the local mercenary gang: The Jackals. It was an unimaginative name, but they weren’t a particularly creative group of people – many of them young, homeless, and all of them bastards or runaways. The only difference for Loren now was that he had a larger group of people looking out for him – and of course, other perks came with the job. Larger crimes meant more loot, and the older boys began teaching him how to use a weapon. Nothing too fancy, but he soon learnt how to duel well enough to either run away or kill someone much larger than himself.

For three years, Loren worked with this gang of street urchins. Their crimes were petty enough to keep them out of the limelight, meaning the guards and larger, more prominent groups didn’t pay them much heed. Still, it was better than how he was doing before. Loren would have been quite happy to continue living with his group of friends for the rest of his life, but fate had other plans for him. After a night of wandering down dark alleys on his own close by the docks, he found himself quite groggy the next day onboard a ship. A ship belonging to the Praelian Navy had decided it needed a new powder-monkey, so he had been snatched and press-ganged.

His newer life had a disappointing lack of freedom to it. Not only did he suddenly have a lot of ridiculous rules to abide by, the Officer responsible for press-ganging him seemed to have taken an interest in the young lad. Perhaps he appreciated Loren’s fire despite the unfair situation he’d be thrust into, or simply admired his enthusiasm for fighting. Either way, the Officer wanted to ensure that Loren could one day move up from the rank of powder monkey, and began to task him with even more jobs. Loren was taught how to read and write, manners, politeness, how to speak like a gentleman and basic etiquette – not everything stuck, but the one thing that did were his lessons in sword fighting. Every spare moment of his time (Not that he had much to begin with) was spent sparring and going through endless exercises with this Officer. Loren certainly resented his mentor; not just for the over-working, but the harsh words, lack of praise, and beatings for not doing something right. Still, he had a grudging respect for the man. In no time at all, Loren had become an expert with his blade, and could win sparring sessions with most onboard the ship. His manners also improved, enough so that it became shocking for most to find out about his actual start in life on the street.

After staying with the navy ship for five years, and putting up with five years’ worth of beatings and tireless training, Loren finally got a break in the middle of the Sea of Swords, under the guise of a pirate ship. The Silent Nomad.

Although the navy ship put up a good fight, it was clear they were to be overwhelmed. One by one, the sailors fell to the pirates, while Loren watched on from the crow’s nest. He watched the scene unfold quite brazenly; not wanting to be mistaken as a coward for not fighting, but simply because he owed nothing to the ship or the crew. After the last man was cut down – his mentor, ironically enough – Loren descended the mast, hoping that the pirates below would be somewhat sympathetic to his reasons. Luckily for him, the Captain of the crew was rather understanding. After some deliberation, it was decided amongst the crew that they would take Loren in as a crewmember, as long as he was happy to do so. Some distrust was there amongst the others to being with, but that was only expected after having slaughtered the boy’s entire crew. Eager to be living a slightly more fun-filled life with pirates, Loren joined them. And it didn’t take long for him to become a valued member of The Silent Nomad.

For 15 years Loren worked his way up the ranks of the pirate ship, getting involved with most roles onboard to get a larger understanding of what everyone did, how the ship worked, and how everyone worked together. The pirates had a larger sense of comradery than the navy men did, and that was something Loren appreciated. It felt more like a family, than just a bunch of loud-mouthed killers people usually saw pirates as. It was a hard day for all when their Captain passed away – not in the glory of battle, but consumption. By this point, Loren had been made Quartermaster, and it didn’t take long for the crew to vote on who their new Captain should be. After giving the old captain’s body back to the sea, Loren was given his new job. And there he stayed for another ten years, thriving under his new role, and most of his crew doing well following his lead. However, a rather unexpected event occurred that changed everything for the worst. A mutiny, that not only cost Loren his ship, but the lives of those he considered family.

After a raid on a rich man’s seaside manor, something had gone awry in the plan. A sailor, not following his orders properly, had ended up shot and fatally wounded. The ship’s healer could do nothing to save him, and he ended up dying. Most were unsympathetic, as the man had acted like an idiot that could have got even more people injured and killed. Still, Loren spoke well of the man at his wake, and gave his share of the loot to his brother Jarid, who happened to be Loren’s quartermaster at the time. Jarid didn’t want the loot – instead he wanted vengeance, and as the guard’s had already been killed at the manor, he held only one person responsible: Loren. Wanting to instigate a coup, Jarid began sowing dissent amongst the others, convincing some of the more greedy and shady members that the raid had been too risky, and the Captain wasn’t worthy of his job anymore when he got his crewmates killed so easily. As The Silent Nomad slowly approached the coast of Praelior, a vote was called on the deck about relieving Loren of his duty. Those who had sided with Jarid obviously stood against Loren, but he still had a large number of his crew still stand for him. The ship was divided, and a fight to the death begun. Jarid’s people had never wanted to win this the fair way anyway, and many of Loren’s loyal friends were slain in cowardly ways. Loren himself, after cutting down several of his traitorous crewmates, was blown backwards of the ship after being shot several times by Jarid. Deciding that he was probably dead as his body sank below the waves, they took the ship and sailed away. Little did they know, that it would take more than a few wounds to take Captain Lorenzo down.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he made it to dry land, but Loren managed it somehow – perhaps out of pure stubbornness on not wanting to die. Licking his wounds and taking odd-jobs here and there across the country, Loren bided his time, eyes constantly drifting back towards the horizon. While he ached for revenge, he bitterly missed the sea and her ways. Dry land was tiresome after a while, and far too static. He took to travelling as much as he could just to try and sate some of his wanderlust.

This happened three years ago, and now, he has arrived at Seacliffe. The thought of being on a ship once again is a tempting one, but the possibility of regaining his Captainship made the decision for him. Loren would make his way onboard The Sea Reaver, no matter how much he had to prove.

Relationships:

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

@MacabreFox

No worries! Once @POOHEAD189 and I post, we can get it done and move things along. :)